In order to delete
a corrupt application
infesting my hard drive
I performed a search in c colon
for occurrences of the word cool.
My computer found 260 files.
One in the bootlog default folder,
and a user file in the shell cache.
There was even a cool
in my configuration.
Next came 43 options
and system extensions,
some scanjet isf's
and an idx in jscript.
Eight coolgray colors
decorated photoshop,
and three cool files
languished in the trash.
Ten readme files offered help
with reboot setup information
and network associations.
I found soft time, quick time,
remote controls and more.


It was a mystery to me:
so much cool needed
to run my functions.
But I recognized some
familiar wordperfect files:
ilhara/cottage, dog/death,
web/moon and budapest.
These were certain texts,
parts of myself entered
into the machine.
And this got me wondering:
how much of me inhabited
the gray plastic tower?


Continuing my curious quest,
I ran a search for body parts:
eyes, ears and nose,
mouth and heart,
fingers, arms and hands,
waist and penis,
thigh, knees and legs,
ankle, feet and toes.
I searched for tears,
but the machine stalled,
as if balking at that
one strange request.


Determined to uncover
further relationships,
I ran percentages
based on 2983 files
containing body parts,
then used graph paper
to create a scaled drawing.
Although my heart was huge,
my ears were three times that size.
I had eyes bigger than my stomach,
and hands long as my arms.
Encouraged by my narrow waist,
I was disappointed with my penis.
My ankles were thick as an elephant's,
and I could scratch my forehead with my toes.
A preposterous caricature,
but what did I expect to find,
searching for myself
in a machine?


Suddenly,
the screen went blank
and the fan stopped.
During my search for body parts,
I had neglected to delete
the infected cool files.
For hours I tried to retrieve
lost parts of myself,
but they were gone.
I sat, head in my hands
mumbling backup, backup.
The digital camera port
stared back like a single eye,
and the disc slot grinned
as if enjoying itself.

To understand machine language you have to look inside,
much the same as you would look inside yourself.
Machines speak in voices coded like tongues,
by turns soothing, vicious, babble.


Machines have to look inside, much the same, to understand.
Machines speak in voices to look inside.
Machines speak in voices inside yourself.
Machines speak yourself.
Machines speak inside.
Machines speak.
Machines look like yourself.
Machines are coded like inside yourself.
Undefined, undefined, undefined, undefined, undefined,
undefined, undefined, undefined, undefined, undefined.


To understand yourself you have to look inside machines,
speak in tongues coded in machine-like voices.
By turns, much the same inside language
as babble, vicious, soothing.


Machines have to look inside, much the same, to understand.
Machines speak in voices to look inside.
Machines speak in voices inside yourself.
Machines speak yourself.
Machines speak inside.
Machines speak.
Machines look like yourself.
Machines are coded like inside yourself.
Undefined, undefined, undefined, undefined, undefined,
undefined, undefined, undefined, undefined, undefined.


To understand language you have to machine yourself,
speak babble like vicious, soothing machines.
Tongues much the same as you,
voices coded inside by turns.


Machines have to look inside, much the same, to understand.
Machines speak in voices to look inside.
Machines speak in voices inside yourself.
Machines speak yourself.
Machines speak inside.
Machines speak.
Machines look like yourself.
Machines are coded like inside yourself.
undefined, undefined, undefined, undefined, undefined,
undefined, undefined, undefined, undefined, undefined.


To understand machine language you have to look inside,
much the same as you would look inside yourself.
Machines speak in voices coded like tongues,
by turns soothing, vicious, babble.